Under a Bad Sun
by Eliana Panthera
Summary: It's hot, and all Claire wants is a cigarette. But when she goes searching for her fix, she finds something she never could have imagined. Claire/Alice. Multi-chapter.
1. Chapter 1

**Title: **Under a Bad Sun (1/4)

**Fandom: **Resident Evil (movie-verse)

**Pairing: **Alice Abernathy/Claire Redfield

**Rating: **NC-17 for language, sex, and some situations with dub-con

**Summary: **It's hot, and all Claire wants is a cigarette. But when she goes searching for her fix, she finds something she never could have imagined.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Resident Evil, or Claire and Alice.

**Notes: **This is the first multi-chapter I've written in a while. But I'm pretty happy with how it turned out. Be gentle with me though, guys. I have to find my sea legs again.

XXX

_"And I don't know where we belong  
I think we grew under a bad sun  
I know we're not like everyone  
You and me we grew, under a bad sun"_

Bad Sun - The Bravery

XXX

Claire needed a goddamn cigarette.

The empty, red-and-white Marlboro box lay in the cupholder next to her, the large typeface of the brand name staring back at her tauntingly. She desperately wished to reach down, flick the box open, and pull out a precious cigarette. Her fingertips twitched on the steering wheel at the thought. _If only, if only. _She needed to make sure to scope out their next rest stop to see if she could find any more. Brand didn't matter to her. She couldn't afford to care about things like that these days. She just needed to feel the smoke, hold it in the papery cages of her lungs.

Stringy trails of sunlight meandered through the dust-covered windows of the Hummer, and Claire squinted despite her sunglasses. The sun reflected off the gray asphalt roads and made them a blinding, glowing white. Heat waves quivered up from the ground, and Claire felt like she was roasting even inside of the vehicle. A glance over to her right showed K-mart suffering much the same in the passenger seat, trying to wipe subtly at the sheen of sweat that had started to form at her hairline.

They were somewhere in Utah, nearing the Nevada border. Most of the United States had turned into a wasteland after the wave of the outbreak ran through it, leaving endless masses of undead in its wake. However, the West was worse than anywhere else. Many places had been desert climates anyway. After the outbreak, this had only intensified. The temperatures rose to nearly unbearable levels during the day, then often plummeted to near freezing once the sun set. Trees and other foliage were rare. It was unusual to see anything in the sand except more sand.

"Claire, how long until we can stop?" K-mart asked, nimble fingers pulling her hair back into a ponytail in a futile attempt to stay cool. Claire reached over to tuck a strand of hair the girl had missed behind her ear, and she had to peel her hand from the steering wheel. Claire wrinkled her nose in disgust. She was always sweaty and it was pretty nasty. They didn't have enough spare water for anyone to clean themselves more than every couple of weeks either. She had gotten used to the smell but not the gross feeling that always hung on to her skin.

With a shrug, Claire responded, "There's a relatively nice-sized gas station about twenty miles from here. We'll stop there, then maybe send a small scouting party to the town a couple of miles past that. Not too much longer."

"Thank god," K-mart groaned, "Maybe they have clean water so I can finally freshen up a little bit. My hair is ratchet."

Claire let out a bark of laughter, "Did you _seriously _just say 'ratchet'?"

"Well, it's true," K-mart replied, laughing as well. Still smiling, she added, "I really do need a nice, cold shower to balance out all of this heat. I feel disgusting all the time."

Claire groaned lightly at the thought, "I second that motion. A swimming pool would be nice too. A Jacuzzi. A full-on spa. _Oh_, that would be fucking fantastic."

"Language, Claire," K-mart responded, and Claire threw her a sideways glance. The blonde's expression was serious, but as soon as she met Claire's eyes a smile tugged at the corners of her lips. Claire swore almost as badly as LJ (which was saying something), and K-mart had given up on seriously reprimanding her for her language. It was a wasted effort.

Claire shoved lightly at the younger girl's shoulder, "Whatever, Wal-Mart."

The look she received bordered on terrifying. K-mart _hated _that nickname with a frightening passion, and Claire genuinely feared for her life for a second. There was a shotgun resting at the girl's feet. It wouldn't have been hard for her to blast Claire's brain matter all over the inside of the vehicle. Instead, though, the girl simply gave her a glare that could have melted the polar ice caps and reached beneath her seat. She pulled out a book with a worn cover, and her sweaty fingers left very faint wet marks on the pages as she flipped through them.

It was _The Bell Jar_, and it was obviously K-Mart's favorite. Claire had seen her read it at least five times - cover to cover - in just the past few months alone. She had never been fond of poetry. She wasn't much a reader, not because she disliked it, but because her body didn't like the feeling of sitting still when it could be up exercising or fight training or repairing motorcycles. Claire's brain was hardwired for constant motion, constant stimulation. She couldn't sit around and do nothing, and that was simultaneously her greatest asset and her greatest nemesis as a leader.

"You're such a jerk," Came from the passenger seat. Claire laughed lightly, and after a few moments, K-mart was lost in her book. Claire's fingers tapped lightly on the wheel, playing a half-remembered drum beat from some song, one she used to like blasting at an extremely loud volume when she spent muggy July nights driving alone on back roads with the windows down. The red-head sighed. She always wanted to be in motion, yes, and the driving did make it worse. But she usually wasn't this twitchy. Her fidgeting fingers could only hold still on the wheel for a moment, even if she gripped so tightly her knuckles whitened. It had been eleven days since her last cigarette. That was probably why. She needed to get some more sooner rather than later.

The sun had finally arrived at its highest point in the sky when Claire saw the gas station at the very farthest end of her range of vision. The building was small and she had to squint, but it was the only one nearby except for those in the town past it. Claire pulled her walkie-talkie from her hip and pressed the button at the top, "Okay guys, our stop is up there."

A chorus of acknowledgement echoed back to her from each of the other vehicles in the convoy. Despite the fact she had just heard their voices, all accounted for, Claire looked into the rearview mirror and counted the number of trucks behind her just to be safe. Everyone was following her with no apparent issues. Her eyes then flicked to K-mart. The girl didn't seem to have heard Claire's message to the others, her hair already climbing out of her ponytail and curtaining her face as she read her book with her lips slightly parted. With a soft smile, Claire returned her vision to the road and the building growing closer and closer.

In a few moments, they were all pulled into the parking lot. The rumbling of the Hummer stopped when Claire turned it off, and K-mart must have felt the subtle absence of motion, because she dog-eared the page in her book somewhat lovingly and pushed it back under her seat. Claire brought her walkie-talkie back up to her lips, "Carlos, LJ, search this place for any undead."

"Already on it, Claire," Carlos replied, and even as he did, Claire saw him and LJ approach the building slowly with their guns drawn. The glass was broken and stained on the jagged edges in a few places - a rust color that was probably blood. From Claire's position the gas station looked empty, but she could never be too sure. She grabbed the shotgun from K-mart's feet, checked to confirm the presence of the Glock at her hip, and climbed out of the truck just in case something went wrong.

She had no reason to worry, because a few moments later, Carlos and LJ returned. The former Umbrella soldier came up to her, his expression light, "None of those bastards in there. I did see some bottled waters, though, and some food that looked salvageable."

"Good," Claire said, and looked around her. People were already climbing out of vehicles, knowing by Claire, Carlos, and LJ's body language that they were safe. She turned to her group and waved her hand in an all-encompassing gesture, talking loudly enough for them to hear, "You all know what to search for. Food, water, other supplies. Let's get going, folks. We can spend the night here then get moving in the morning after we scout out the next town."

She heard some slight grumbling from a few members of her convoy at the mention of leaving in the morning. Claire ignored them. _She _knew moving was one huge reason they were still alive. _They _didn't know that, but Claire restrained herself and managed not to go off on a tangent towards the complainers. Even if they didn't like her methods, they kept people alive. That was all that mattered, even if they complained.

Claire walked into the gas station, pushing through the door and searching immediately for what she was looking for. She scowled in disappointment at what she saw. Someone had already raided this place of cigarettes. During the end of the world, they were popular game. Some of the first things looted from abandoned stores tended to be cigarettes and alcohol. After all, what did anyone have to lose anymore? They were bad for you but with the very real possibility of death finding you any given moment, what was the point in fearing the effects?

With a sigh, Claire started gathering bottles of water from the refrigerators that no longer worked. She carried them out in her arms and started loading them into the backs of vehicles, working methodically. Simultaneously, she kept an eye on her people and her surroundings, in case any threats had simply left and decided to come back again later, or something new heard the sound of their vehicles and approached. The focus and the labor kept her body busy, and the twitching subsided.

Over an hour later, the building was clear of anything useful, and camp was set up. Wood was stacked for fires that would be started once the temperature began to drop. The children were sitting in circles in the sand, using the trucks around them as shade, talking about whatever young children talked about. Claire couldn't remember herself at that age, except for all of the times she and Chris would wrestle on the floor. They never held back, and usually both came out bruised or bleeding. They laughed afterwards. Always.

She didn't realize she was smiling at the memory until Chase came up to her, "What are you so happy about?"

"Nothing, just thinking," Claire responded, forcing herself not to blush lightly in embarrassment at being caught reminiscing. She liked to keep up the belief that she was far past those maudlin longings, that she was too strong for them.

Chase's accent was always a little thicker when he was in a good mood, "Well, I'm about to make you smile even more."

"Is that so?" Claire questioned, her heart skipping in her chest a little bit at the words. Her body was achy from the heat and some good news to focus on would be nice.

Chase nodded, grinning, "We found some gas still here. A lot, actually. It added about two weeks' worth to the tanker."

Two weeks worth was a huge find these days. It was more than she expected for sure, and she resisted the urge to hug the cowboy, "That's great! Two weeks can go a long way."

"Glad I could make your day, Ms. Redfield," Chase replied, and tipped his hat at her. She chuckled, and he motioned to the tanker with his head, "I'm taking first watch tonight, so I'm going to go ahead and get some rest."

Claire nodded, smiling at him one last time as he turned and left. Almost as soon as he was gone, her fidgeting came back even though she was happy about their success at the gas station. Her fingers tapped at the side of the Hummer, and Claire bit her lip, annoyed. She couldn't take this. She knew she wasn't planning on sending scouts to the town until the morning, to check it before the convoy headed in that direction, but she didn't particularly want to wait anymore. She was going to go crazy before then.

"Carlos," Claire said into her walkie-talkie, "Meet me by the hummer in five."

Exactly five minutes later, the man appeared in front of her. She looked at him seriously and said, "I'm taking the bike and I'm going to go stake out the town."

"Now? By yourself?" The apprehension in his voice was immediate and he looked somewhat startled. Claire was usually the one who insisted on a buddy system. But it was a small town and she wasn't incredibly worried about what it held in store for her. She didn't really like leaving the convoy, but she really wanted to do this one alone. Maybe the heat was getting to her head. That was probably it. Heat, and withdrawal. She really needed to try to kick the cigarette habit eventually, she supposed.

Claire shrugged, "I'll take extra weapons and extra ammo. But I'll be fine. I'll check it out and be back by sunset. Maybe sooner if there's nothing there."

"There are two seats on the bike," Carlos reminded her, as though she had forgotten. It was a not-so-subtle hint that he wanted to come with her, or at least send someone else with capable gun firing abilities. She set her resolve, and when he met her eyes he knew he couldn't sway her. With a reluctant nod, he said, "I'll get Mikey to help me get it out for you."

Claire smiled at him, "Thanks, Carlos."

"You're welcome. Just don't do anything stupid."

XXX

Claire never felt more powerful than she did with a motorcycle beneath her.

The engine of her Ducati Diavel Strada hummed through her body as it sped along the roads. Her hair whipped around her face, her jacket tugged back and flapped in the wind. It was still obnoxiously warm, but less so now that she was going fast enough to deflect the majority of the heat.

She had her two Glocks holstered to either hip, a shotgun and a rifle on her back, a knife against her left boot, another pistol against her right. She was armed and dangerous, with a powerful machine pushing her forward at incredible speeds. Claire knew she probably looked pretty damn badass, and she gave a closed-mouth smile at the idea of it. She would have laughed or grinned full-out, but she didn't want to get a bug stuck in her teeth.

It took only a few minutes before she crossed into the town. It really was small, and Claire slowed her bike as she wove through it. No undead attacked her. That, however, didn't mean they weren't there at all. They were probably hidden in buildings or something. They would approach her sooner rather than later because of the sound her bike was making.

After a few moments, Claire decided to start her exploration of the small area in a small 24/7 corner shop. She could see cigarettes on the back wall if she squinted. Carefully, Claire pulled her motorcycle up to the curb and stopped it, patting the seat affectionately after she dismounted. With practiced ease, Claire pulled her Glock from its holster and pointed it in front of her as she walked as silently into the store as possible.

The smell of death hit her before anything else. Her eyes watered and her throat closed with the taste of rising bile. Claire swallowed hard and forced the feelings back, listening for any movement. There was nothing, and as she approached the counter, she found the source of the stench. It was a partially-decomposed woman lying behind a shelf, her stomach torn open, the majority of her entrails missing from the cavity. Some of her skin was rotting off, leaving sinewy tendrils of muscle and crisp gleams of bone behind. There was a bullet hole in her forehead. Someone had killed her. Or maybe re-killed her. She was too far into the process of decomposition for the red-head to decide all that well. Claire turned away quickly before she could gag or actually vomit.

She searched the rest of the store quickly but thoroughly. Satisfied with its emptiness, she found the cigarettes behind the counter, and easily planted a hand and swung her legs over it. She shoved several packs into the pockets of her cargo pants, her fidgeting fingers stilling just at the fact the cigarettes were in her grip, there to be used if Claire wanted to. With a grin, Claire walked over to the counter to hurtle herself back over it. She chuckled lightly when she saw the sign still taped to it, demanding that IDs had to be shown by anyone wishing to purchase cigarettes.

That didn't matter now. Claire didn't even have her old wallet with her driver's license and her motorcycle license in it anymore. She had left it at home when the outbreak had first started and she had left her home in a panicked rush to go find Chris.

Her thoughts of her brother had distracted her, and she didn't hear the noise until it was nearly upon her.

Claire's head snapped up so quickly her sunglasses slid down her nose. The undead was staring at her, its jaws opened like a cavern, crooked stalagmite teeth ready to rip into her flesh, a crackling moan escaping from the depths of its throat. Claire swallowed a surprised shriek, lifted the gun that was still in her hand, and fired. Her shaking hands managed to put a bullet in the creature's skull just as it lunged towards her throat. The body fell to the ground with a thud, each limb landing and jostling a few times. The sound of more growling and moaning then came from the back of the store. Claire had no time to try to figure out how and when the fuck the monsters had come in.

She propelled herself over the counter, shoved her sunglasses up in front of her eyes, and sprinted out the door through which she'd entered the store. The single gunshot had drawn more attention. She could see undead ghouls clambering from every direction now, from buildings and alleys and the middle of the street.

A million thoughts tore through Claire's mind in a matter of seconds.

_They were so quiet. Why didn't they come out when they heard my motorcycle?_

_I knew there would be some, but this many? This is insane. _

_Why was I so stupid? I shouldn't have come here by myself._

_Fuck, I need to give up cigarettes if I survive this. I'm such an idiot. What about the convoy? What about K-mart? This is all my fault for being so goddamn stupid. _

_Oh god. Oh god. What am I going to do?_

The zombies from the convenience store behind her were coming closer. Desperately, Claire raced to her Ducati. She powered the engine and took off down the street, occasionally having to swerve violently to avoid a rogue undead stumbling through the road, claw-like hands aimed towards ripping free pieces of her sun-heated flesh. They were closing her in. Claire realized that a moment after she took off on the bike. Maybe it was accidental. Maybe instinctive. Maybe it was a cognitive strategy. Claire didn't really know. But they were circling around her to block her in.

Knowing it was hopeless, Claire stopped the bike. They were all around her, moving closer, just a block away at most on any given side. Her blood was pounding hot and rapid near the surface of her skin. She knew they could probably smell it.

Claire heard screaming as she tugged her Glocks from their leather holster. The sound was raw and animalistic and terrified. It took a moment to register that the horrible noise was her doing. A sob tore from her throat but she refused to cry. She held up her guns, prepared to fight every last one of the motherfuckers approaching her.

Claire Redfield was going to die, but she was going to die a badass.

_A very stupid one_, her mind decided to add, and the thought simultaneously made her stomach clench and her anger flare.

The first group was upon her in just a few seconds. There were seven of them, and Claire took them out methodically, a single bullet to the skull each time, bodies crumpling lifelessly to the ground - for good this time. For an instant, her success gave her confidence. Then she glanced around, and the multitude of undead finally registered. She didn't have enough bullets, and they would overwhelm her too quickly even if she did.

Claire took on the next group, emptying the bullets from her first Glock and desperately working to make use of the other one. Now, there were no pauses. The undead upon her were always replaced when fallen, as if they went through meiosis every few moments and produced another drooling, hungering copy.

When her second Glock ran out, Claire whipped it at the nearest zombie hard enough to kill it, and it hit the ground with enough force coagulated blood and gray bits of brain matter splattered like a wild painting on the ground and on Claire's boots. For a hysterical second, she was upset about soiling the leather. Then she was firing off shots with her shotgun and her desperate focus came back to her.

Soon that emptied too. There was no time for her to reach down and pull her pistol from her boot. They would rip her to shreds before she could. Her fists flew instead, knocking heads backwards, pushing away clambering bodies. Necks snapped, blood fell. But Claire was tired. Already, lactic acid was burning her muscles, and her body was collapsing in on itself with exhaustion. She couldn't do it anymore.

An attempt to kick a zombie in the head resulted in a stray, flailing arm smashing into her gut. The blow knocked her to her knees; it was in that moment Claire realized it was over. She looked up at the crazed faces around her, baring her teeth in a snarl.

This would be her last defiance. She would die with her eyes open, filled with the hatred she felt for Umbrella for turning the world to this.

A decaying hand gripped her shoulder. Gnarled fingers, broken nails, and flesh riddled with infection pulled her backwards; she could feel hot breath on her throat, and she fought the desire to close her eyes. She waited for teeth to close on her neck, ripping out her jugular, tearing free stringy chunks of her muscle. Claire could hear nothing but the blood rushing past her ears, and the sporadic rhythm of her heart as it rose, hot and slick, to punch her in the roof of her mouth.

The feeling never came. The hand released her throat with a force, and Claire looked up, startled. Around her, the undead had fallen back, and Claire felt the ground beneath her tremble as they were blasted backwards again. Once they were around fifty feet away from her, they started catching fire. Pyres of flame and smoke rose all around her, like a wall. Claire watched with wide, terrified eyes as her certain death went up in flames around her.

It took only a moment or two before there was nothing remaining but ash. Claire stumbled to her feet, spinning around wildly and hysterically, looking for anything else that might attack her. When she turned around completely, she nearly jumped out of her skin at the sight of a woman standing just five or six feet away. Her pupils were huge, her body trembling. Her hair was blonde form sun exposure, her skin stained with a perfect tan. A headscarf was wrapped around her. She had two blades holstered to her back. Pistols were at her hips. Claire swallowed at the intensity in the woman's face, and as her pupils slowly grew smaller, revealing ice-blue irises, the red-head realized that_ she_ had set the undead on fire.

Claire swallowed and asked apprehensively, "Who _are _you?" The woman opened her mouth to answer, but her eyes fluttered. Her body swayed. A trail of dark red blood dripped from her nose, venturing over her slightly-parted lips.

The woman collapsed, and Claire barely rushed forwards in time to catch her.

**Reviews make my world go round, seriously.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Title: **Under a Bad Sun (2/4)

**Fandom: **Resident Evil (movie-verse)

**Pairing: **Alice Abernathy/Claire Redfield

**Rating: **NC-17 for language, sex, and some situations with dub-con

**Summary: **It's hot, and all Claire wants is a cigarette. But when she goes searching for her fix, she finds something she never could have imagined.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Resident Evil, or Claire and Alice.

**Notes: **This chapter is definitely the shortest. The last two chapters are much longer, I promise.

XXX

Claire cast a nervous glance out the window.

The sky was painted golden, a color very slowly filling with streams of soft red and orange and purple. The sun would begin setting soon. Claire gave it an hour and a half before it set completely and night fell. The temperature was already dropping slightly, and she was thankful Carlos had reminded her to pack a blanket before she left on her idiotic scouting mission.

Currently, Claire and the woman who had saved her ass were in a building in the town Claire had nearly died in. When the blonde fell unconscious after her bout of supernatural heroics, Claire had realized that there was no way she was going to be able to take her back to the convoy. She had no protective motorcycle gear and she had no way to harness the other woman in. The idea of allowing her to flop around on the seat of the Ducati and maybe even fall to the road and her death didn't please Claire at all. So she had half-dragged, half-carried the woman into a building with her left arm, her reloaded Glock in her right, pointed in front of her in case she found any stray undead.

Claire looked over at the woman who clung to her thoughts. She was lain out on her side, her hair wild as it hung around her face. Her eyes were closed, but Claire could remember the shockingly blue irises that were revealed each second her swollen pupils converged back into their proper size. She could also remember the intensity in her face, the tension in her muscles, and the trail of dark blood that had dripped from her nose (though the last one was probably due to the fact that, when Claire had attempted to wipe the blood away with her hasty-and-shaken fingers, she had sort of smeared a hint of it across the woman's upper lip like a bizarre red mustache. Whoops).

The feelings Claire she had for the blonde were an ambiguous mixture of apprehension, interest, and some underlying current of emotion Claire couldn't quite place. The apprehension was for obvious reasons. This woman was clearly powerful, considering her feat of zombie destruction had been solely a mentally-powered action. A maelstrom churned in her gut, crashing around the sickening ideas of Umbrella and their experiments. It was a logical explanation for the stranger's abilities, and Claire found the suggestion considerably uncomfortable. Umbrella Corporation had always chilled her to the bone, and every fiber of her being knew they were the ones responsible for the undead outbreak. She had vague memories of Chris mentioning the possibility of a biohazard being created in the company's labs, back when he worked for S.T.A.R.S.

Intrigue was also an understandable feeling. Claire was interested in the full extent of the woman's powers and abilities. But more than that, she was curious as to why the blonde had saved her. It obviously took a lot of energy to do so, and Claire wasn't quite sure what made her worth the effort and exertion from a stranger who had never even spoken to her before the event.

Then there was something else, some other bizarre feeling Claire couldn't place. It wouldn't have been hard to just leave the woman for a short while, return to the convoy, retrieve the Hummer, and come back to pick her up. However, Claire couldn't bring herself to. The idea of leaving the strange woman alone and defenseless in her unconscious state poured acidic guilt into her gut. And there was another fear-that the woman would awaken while she was gone, and Claire would never see her again. She pushed the intense protective desire off as gratitude, but it made her uneasy for reasons she could not place.

Claire looked out the window again. Night would be falling soon. She knew the convoy was worried about her. But she also knew they would stay in the same place for 24 hours before assuming the worst and moving on without her. She and Carlos had thoroughly discussed this, and while she hated the worry she was probably instilling in her people, she knew they were secure at the moment. She had to protect the one who really needed it right now. This woman had saved her life. It was only fair she kept her safe in return, right? And if it hit around noon the next day and the woman was still out, Claire would have to bring herself to leave, at least temporarily.

With a sigh, Claire leaned back against the wall of the building. She pulled out her canteen and a can of soup. With her can opener, she cut the metal top open, and smirked when she saw it was Chunky New England Clam Chowder. Her favorite. _Thank god for Otto,_ Claire thought. She found her spoon after a moment of digging through her rucksack, and she didn't realize the intensity of the growling in her stomach until she started shoveling the chowder into her mouth.

Claire rarely let herself enjoy things anymore, knowledge that she could lose them preventing her from clinging to simple pleasures. But she couldn't resist this one, letting her eyes close and her head fall back against the wall as she repeatedly pushed the spoon past her lips. It had been a long time since she had eaten this kind, and it tasted even better than she remembered.

"Enjoying yourself?"

Claire jumped at the voice. She opened her eyes, forcing herself to act like she hadn't just gotten so distracted that she was that easily startled. The woman was staring back at her, smirking. She was sitting up, and Claire could see that exhaustion still remained in her muscles, even though she was trying her best to fight it. Ignoring the other woman's question, she responded, "Glad to see you're awake."

"Glad to be awake," Came the reply, and casually the stranger reached over, took Claire's food from her hand, and tipped the can back to allow some of the chowder to fill her mouth. Claire let her even though she was slightly taken aback by the forwardness, knowing that the woman needed her strength after having passed out for a few hours.

Claire bit her lip for a second before she asked, "Who are you?" It was the question she had tried to ask the blonde before she fell unconscious in the first place.

"My name is Alice," The woman said. Claire held out a hand for her to shake, and Alice hesitated before giving her a half-hearted handshake in return. A slight streak of annoyance ran through Claire. Forward enough to take her food, but not polite enough to shake her hand properly.

Forcing back the thoughts, (_jesus, Redfield, she's probably just nervous around a stranger) _Claire managed a smile and said, "I'm Claire Redfield." She wanted to ask this woman how she had destroyed all of the undead earlier, but she didn't know how to phrase the question. They lapsed into silence for a long moment, and Claire shifted uncomfortably. The entire situation was really bizarre.

The woman pushed a few more spoonfuls of the chowder into her mouth, then handed the can and the spoon back to Claire, "Thanks." Claire nodded and scraped the last of the stuff off of the sides of the can and past her lips. She watched as the woman felt around, checking to make sure her weapons were intact. Claire had left the woman's Nite-Tacs holstered to her thighs, but she had taken the two large machete-like blades from the woman's back so she could lie her down more comfortably. Claire grabbed them from their place beside her bag, turning them and handing them to the woman handle-first. Alice spun the blades twice then slid them into their sheaths with an ease born only of practice.

"I guess I should be going," Alice said, and moved to push herself to her feet. Claire reached out, gripping the woman's wrist to stop her. Almost immediately, Alice had her wrist in a lock. Claire winced, and the woman quickly released her, a slight flush coloring her dirty cheeks, "Sorry."

Claire rubbed her fingers over the sore tendons, rolling her wrist around until it felt loose again, "It's okay. Instinct. I get it." She was a little more nervous now, realizing that this woman could very easily hurt her and maybe it would have been a better idea to leave her from the start. But her protective instincts pushed those thoughts away, and instead she asked, "Where are you going so soon?"

There was a silence that seemed to stretch on just slightly too long. Alice looked out the window at the nearly-faded light, then finally she shrugged a shoulder and said simply, "North."

"Alone? Walking?" Claire asked, surprised. Obviously, Alice was a higher class of human being. But still, the idea of traveling alone was terrifying. And on foot, to make it worse. No one to watch your back when you needed to rest. Constant exhaustion and exposure to the elements. Surely the risk of being found by the undead or falling ill or dying in some other horrible way increased tenfold, "Fuck that. I'm the leader of a convoy. We have food, water, and shelter. Why don't you come back with me?"

A bark of bitter laughter escaped from Alice's mouth and echoed around them, "I don't think that would be a good idea."

"And why not?" Claire responded. The blonde was obviously stubborn, but so was Claire. She refused to let a survivor leave without at least thoroughly encouraging them to join the convoy. And though Alice set her on edge, the younger woman was also well aware that she would be a valuable asset in protecting the convoy. It seemed worth it, if only she could get her to agree.

Alice met her eyes then, and Claire couldn't pull away from the blue depths. There was so much held there-confusion and soul-searching and guardedness, simultaneously swimming through the irises, "Most people would be afraid of me. Because of what I did."

"I am, a little," Claire allowed herself to admit, "But you saved my ass, so obviously you can't be too bad. So let me show my gratitude." Alice still looked very apprehensive, so she tried a compromise, "A week? It'll give you time to regain your energy, and if you still want to go, we'll give you some supplies and let you head off."

There was another pause, then Alice nodded and let out a grudging sigh, "Alright. Let's go."

"Now? We should wait until morning," Claire responded.

Alice shook her head, "I can see very well in the dark. We'll be fine. You came in on that Ducati, right?"

"You recognize it?" Claire asked, surprised and impressed.

"Diavel Strada, yes?" Alice returned. Claire gaped at her, then suddenly it hit what the woman was suggesting. All amazement froze and shattered, replaced by boiling horror. That bike was her baby. No one else was allowed to drive it. Carlos and K-Mart had both been on it with her on the rare occasions it was put to use, but Claire always drove.

Quickly, the younger woman shook her head, "Nope. No deal. No chance in hell anyone besides me is driving my bike."

"Surely your people are worried about you," Alice reminded her. She didn't _sound _like she was manipulating Claire, but that's what it felt like. However, it was a valid point. The sooner they could get back, the less time the convoy had to panic. And that lessened the likelihood that someone would come out looking for her and get hurt somehow.

Ten minutes later, and they were speeding down the road, the machine rumbling, the night air catching their hair and pushing it up into flight. Alice was driving, Claire was behind her, arms wrapped around her waist. She was jittery and nervous, both because she was trusting this relative stranger with her baby, and also because of the contact. She was not a touchy-feely person, especially with people she didn't really know. Apprehension tightened in her gut, and she felt a little bit queasy.

_Jesus, Claire. Calm down, _she chided herself, _she saved your life. And you're repaying her by being all awkward and unnecessarily jittery. How polite of you._

Her berating internal monologue was right. Alice was doing a fine job of working her Ducati. There was nothing to be worried about, there. And she _had _saved Claire. Why would she have done that and gone through the physical effects it caused if she wasn't actually on Claire's side? It seemed like far too much effort to just betray her trust.

Besides, it was just a week. What could go wrong?

**Reviews make my world go round, seriously.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Title: **Under a Bad Sun (3/4)

**Fandom: **Resident Evil (movie-verse)

**Pairing: **Alice Abernathy/Claire Redfield

**Rating: **NC-17 for language, sex, and some situations with dub-con

**Summary: **It's hot, and all Claire wants is a cigarette. But when she goes searching for her fix, she finds something she never could have imagined.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Resident Evil, or Claire and Alice.

**Notes: **Claire's inner monologue mentions Americanas, Kimuras, and Gogoplatas in this chapter. Americanas and Kimuras are types of shoulder locks, and a Gogoplata is a type of choke. Also, there's a little bit of a Rizzoli & Isles reference in here. If you can spot it, then you get a cookie. Oh, and last-thank you to my fabulous friend Elisa (jovovarter on Tumblr) for helping me out with this chapter!

XXX

It was quiet when they arrived back at the convoy. The only light was that of a single campfire, flickering in the middle of the ring of vehicles. Claire had Alice turn off just a foot or two outside of the perimeter. She hopped off the bike, squinted in the darkness, and spotted a blinking red light. It belonged to one of the perimeter cameras. She walked up to it, grabbed the top, turned it so it was pointed at her, and grinned and waved.

The noise that the motion-sensor made probably scared Mikey out of his skin in the vehicle (and Claire bit back a smirk at the mental image of the young Australian jolting awake and slamming his head into the top of the news van before realizing it was only her). But at least he would know not to sound the alarm. Claire would repay him somehow. Perhaps she would turn the other cheek the next time he sat a little too close to K-Mart during convoy meetings. Usually she would death glare him until he moved away from the girl, but she could let it pass this next time. It was only fair.

Claire pushed back her musings and motioned for Alice to come all the way into the camp. She knew the woman would be able to see her in the darkness. Claire waited for the sound of Alice turning the motorcycle back on to hit her, and walked the rest of the way through the vehicles. She stopped about a few feet from the fire, and Alice pulled up next to her and cut the engine once more. With grace, she swung herself off of the bike, landing neatly next to Claire.

"Look who decided to rejoin the party," Came a voice. Claire grinned as LJ stood up and walked around the fire to greet her. He had the same droopy smile on his face as always, "Took your motherfucking time, didn't you?"

She slugged his arm with enough force to make him grunt, "Shut up, asshole." He laughed, and Claire absently wondered why she had been so stupid. She could have never been able to see LJ, or anyone else in her convoy for that matter, again. Besides maybe Carlos and K-Mart, the older man was her best friend in the entire dystopian world.

"Whatever, bitch," LJ shot back. Usually, Claire would never put up with anyone calling her derogatory names like that (though 'bitch' was one she had gotten more than once in her lifetime). However, there was something endearing in the way LJ did it. He had a special tone he used when he was swearing at people he actually liked, and it was basically the equivalent of him calling her "honey" or "sweetheart."

Claire mock glared and LJ shoved her with his shoulder. It was hard enough she had to stagger backwards a step or two in order not to fall on her ass on the sand and earn a year's worth of mocking. LJ laughed again for a moment, then abruptly, the sound cut short. Claire stared at him, startled, and followed his line of sight.

Her backwards movement had placed an otherwise-silent-and-temporarily-forgotten Alice in his vision. He blinked at her, seemingly in shock, then took a step towards her, "Alice? Alice Badass Motherfucker Abernathy, is that you?"

"LJ, you son of a bitch, I thought I would never see you again," Alice replied, and her face broke out in a gigantic grin.

Immediately, LJ pulled her into a hug, and Alice hugged him back, resting her chin on his shoulder. Claire watched in confusion, no longer sure what the fuck was going on, "Waitwaitwait, you two _know_ each other?"

Alice broke the hug and shrugged a nonchalant shoulder, "It's a small world."

"Vanilla and I here kicked some zombie ass in Raccoon City a while back," LJ clarified, and Alice looked at him in annoyance. Her nostrils flared and her eyebrows shot up into her hairline. LJ looked understandably nervous and started to back away.

She elbowed him in the ribs before he could, "I told you _never _to call me that again!" LJ winced and stumbled a few steps away from the woman, smartly avoiding the immediate reach of any of her limbs.

"Sorry, Vanilla," LJ replied, voice full of both snark and pain as he cradled the probably-bruised ribs. Before the blonde could launch herself at him and rip him into pieces, he redirected the subject, "Just wait until Carlos sees you!"

Alice froze, anger forgotten, and a whole ocean of emotions crashed through her eyes in an instant, vivid in the flickering firelight. Claire was taken aback by the sudden openness and understood none of the feelings in the woman's face. Alice's voice was quieter, "Carlos? He's here?"

"Yes. He's going to be so happy you're here. And he might also want to beat your ass for leaving too, just a warning. Not that he stands a chance. You're fucking Wonder Woman or some shit," LJ told her, and Alice simply shook her head around as if she was trying to forcibly clear it. Suddenly, she was the shocked one.

Claire watched the back-and-forth conversation as though it was a tennis match. Apparently, everyone knew Alice except her.

What had she gotten herself into?

XXX

Claire swallowed down the sounds of her breathing. Her feet moved across the hardwood floor with only the barest scraping noises. Her eyes were narrowed in concentration, her hands cradling her Glock. She swung around corners gun-first, prepared to fire at anything that might want to devour her flesh. She could hear nothing. There was no smell of rotting body parts, only the slight stench of mold and years of non-existent upkeep that clung to the walls of the motel. Claire peered into the next to last room in the wing of the building she had taken. Nothing. The emptiness unnerved her more than it comforted her.

The final door loomed off to her right, closed and ominous, the numbers _237 _glaring back at her. In the back of her mind, Claire remembered the numbers from The Shining, belonging to the hotel room where a dead woman lay in a bathtub. The thought sent a shudder down her spine, and she shook it off like it was a cobweb she had accidentally walked through.

Claire kept one hand on her gun, and tried the door handle with the other. Locked. Her muscles tightened, and she separated her feet in a fighting stance to gain balance. Then, with all the force she could muster, she brought her leg up and threw a side-kick at the door. The lock shattered under the blow from her boot heel. The door flew open and banged against the wall behind it with a noise like a gunshot. Despite herself, Claire jumped a little at the sound. Places like this always set her on edge, pulling her body tight enough that she was worried she might snap.

The room was empty, and Claire filled her lungs with a slow breath, forcing her body to relax. _See? Didn't need to worry after all. _Nothing in her area. She would head back to the lobby, meet up with Chase and Carlos, check to make sure they had found the same emptiness, and then begin searching the motel for supplies. Claire was about to turn and head out of the room when something gripped her shoulder.

A sharp cry escaped her, bubbling up past her lips against her control. She whipped around, sending the hand flying from her shoulder. She brought her gun around and stumbled backwards, pointing the weapon at her attacker.

Alice's blue eyes stared back at her, simultaneously surprised and...amused? Yes, she found this hilarious. Claire could see the smirk tugging at her lips. Fury filled her, hot and sticky, "I almost _shot _you!" The redhead hated how high her voice sounded. It was slightly panicky. She cleared her throat roughly, trying to ignore the warmth rising to paint her cheeks.

"I thought you heard me coming," Alice replied, shrugging as though this wasn't a big deal. Claire wanted to strangle her or hit her with the butt of her gun. She wasn't quite sure which one.

Claire's voice was no longer high, but it wasn't pleased, "I'm not a superhuman freak like you! I don't have weird owl hearing or something."

For an instant, something passed across Alice's face. It came after the words _superhuman freak_, and Claire was a little regretful of her wording. The amusement faded from Alice's tan face. The edges of her lips tugged down, wrinkles joining hands around the corners. Claire winced, but she was too proud at the moment to take the statement back, still shaken up by Alice's unexpected entrance. The older woman looked past Claire's shoulder for a moment, "Sorry. I've forgotten what it's like to be normal. Human senses and abilities."

The sentences were bitter, tinged with a clear amount of self-loathing. Claire swallowed her pride then, and it went down her throat like a rock. Her vocal chords felt flayed as she spoke, "No, _I'm_ sorry. That was bad of me to say. You just scared me."

"It's nothing that isn't true," Alice responded.

Claire sighed, "Alice-"

"Claire, it's fine. I've just accepted it. Come on. Let's go find Chase and Carlos. We might find some supplies here," Alice interrupted her. She gave the convoy leader a smile that only looked somewhat forced, and turned to walk out the door. She threw a glance over her shoulder after a few steps, and Claire quickly fell in next to her.

They walked through the quiet hall, and before they reached the lobby, Claire stopped. Alice noticed the lack of softly thudding footsteps and stopped as well. She looked at Claire, and the younger woman made sure to capture those crystalline blue eyes, "I don't think you're a freak." She pushed as much honesty into her voice as possible, and she hoped desperately that Alice could find it in the curves of the letters.

"Thank you," Alice responded. She didn't smile, but Claire could hear something in the words, a sort of deep gratefulness. She dipped her head towards Claire, and the gesture held far more than it seemed.

Something told Claire that the reassurance was one Alice didn't receive very often.

XXX

Every month, Claire checked under the hoods of the vehicles in the convoy, performing basic maintenance and repairing things that could potentially cause them to break down in a convenient desert place 50 miles from the nearest auto parts store. Currently, she was working on her Hummer, her baseball cap backwards on her head, hair pulled in a ponytail. Her fingers were painted with oil and grease, and her face was streaked with sticky lines of sweat. It was probably in the upper 90s, and it wasn't even noon. It was fixing to be a miserable day.

"Need some help?"

The voice startled a very focused Claire, and she jumped. Her head slammed into the underside of the hood, and she groaned as she turned around. Alice was standing there, her expression apologetic. But Claire could see the slight tugging at the corners of her lips as she fought back laughter. _Not this again._ Claire resisted the urge to grab her aching head and smear grease in her hair.

"Why the fuck do you find it necessary to do that?" Claire snapped. This was Alice's fifth day with the convoy, and she had already startled Claire _at least_ once every day. Claire had stopped feeling bad for getting angry by now. She walked so silently and never made her presence known. Two days earlier, she had walked in on Claire changing because she hadn't bothered to knock or make noise before barging into the back of the hummer. Claire had let out an unceremonious squeak, clapped her hands over her exposed breasts, and chewed Alice out for ten minutes (still topless) while the woman tried and only partially succeeded not to laugh at her. Claire thought there might have been a little unnecessary staring too, but she played that part off as her imagination.

Alice's facade crumbled, and a large smirk spread across her lips. She was so _frustrating_. Claire was regretting her decision to invite this woman to come with her, even though the rest of the convoy adored her. She was good with the children, she didn't talk much which pleased K-Mart (who could ramble on for ages if you let her), she had some sort of history with Carlos (one that was not completely happy or contained some sort of scandal, judging by the way he avoided half of Claire's questions when she asked him about it), and she was generally just really helpful around camp. Apparently Claire was the only one who was aggravated by her. And honestly, Claire didn't know why she was. She couldn't understand why, but something within her just really couldn't stand Alice. She never did anything particularly bad. Claire just was at her wit's end, all the time.

"Why are you always so jumpy?" Alice responded. Claire scowled at her, and angrily, she took her gross fingers and rubbed them down either one of Alice's cheeks. Five long smears of brownish-black covered both sides of the woman's face. Alice's jaw dropped, and Claire felt an insane amount of victory for catching her off guard. Revenge was oh, so sweet, she decided. Alice shook her head, eyes narrowing, "Well, that was _totally _mature of you."

Oh, hell no.

People didn't insult Claire's maturity, even as a joke. She had always been very grown up for her age, especially after her parents had died. She was self sufficient and strong, and to suggest she wasn't, even teasingly, was offensive. Chris had done it countless times once he realized how quickly it pissed her off, and she had used countless Americanas, Kimuras, and Gogoplatas on him in return. But if she tried any of that on Alice, she would probably end up with a broken neck. Sometimes, Claire would also abuse Chris with his full name (Christopher Robin Redfield, not even kidding). But Alice Abernathy was a normal name and there was nothing funny she could do with that.

"You're infuriating," Claire settled for that instead, frowning deeply. She turned to return to her work, signaling that this conversation was over. However, Alice had other plans. She gripped Claire's shoulder and pulled her back around, "I didn't mean to offend you."

"Okay. You never do," Claire replied, curtly. Then she sighed, shaking her head around. The heat and the thoughts of her probably-deceased brother Alice had brought up were turning her into a total bitch. More so than usual, at least. Gingerly, she offered an apologetic smile in response to her previous statement. Okay, so maybe she hadn't stopped feeling bad after all, "Sorry. I'm just in a bad mood today. I _would_ like your help, if you don't mind."

Peace offerings were hard, but Claire forced herself into one. Maybe she was just overreacting about everything. Actually, there was no maybe about it. Every little thing Alice did got to her, and Claire couldn't figure out why. But the woman had saved her life, and Claire knew she needed to work on getting over herself. Maybe this would help.

Or maybe she would come out of it hating Alice even more. Only time would tell.

They spent the rest of the afternoon working on the convoy's vehicles, with Claire having Alice hand her various tools and pointing out important parts of the machinery and how to recognize what was good or bad. The blonde picked up on things quickly (no surprise there). They worked fairly well together, and the job was finished an entire two hours before Claire expected it to be previously. The general success startled her, and she found herself joking with Alice by the end. So it had worked in a positive way. _Great ingenuity, Redfield_, she praised herself silently as she checked over the inside of the tanker one final time.

"So, maybe you're only _slightly_ infuriating," Claire found herself admitting later, as she closed the hood of the tanker. It shut with a satisfying thud, and Claire flashed Alice her best shit-eating grin.

A solid punch landed on her arm, "And you're only _slightly_ bitchy." Claire's smile fell and in response, she pulled her lips back from her teeth and gave a joking growl. The blonde raised her eyebrows, grinning at the convoy leader.

"At least my face is clean," Claire shot back, motioning with her hands towards Alice's oil-stained cheeks. The blonde narrowed her eyes, and Claire realized what she had just done. Before she could turn and run away, Alice took her fingers and ran them over Claire's forehead and down her nose. She grinned wickedly, eyes glowing in the sun.

Claire couldn't even bring herself to be mad.

XXX

There was something fascinating about watching Alice practice with her blades (Kukris-Claire knew now, because the woman had gotten irritated with her once for calling them machetes). She moved with such fluidity, and it was almost like dancing. Her hands and feet and hips and shoulders all moved in tandem. Deft fingers and wrists sent the blades spinning and slicing. They created soft whistling noises when Alice drew them particularly brutally through the air. She could throw one, spin, and catch it before it hit the ground, while simultaneously striking with the one still in her grasp. She could hand spin the blades and whip them around them in a tornado-like whirl.

But it was her face that really intrigued Claire. Her eyebrows furrowed. Her mouth opened, lips parted slightly, teeth showing in a constant, primal snarl. And her eyes. God, those eyes. They grew bluer and bluer, until the color was almost electric. And there was something wild about them. Something animalistic flickered through them, something raging and vengeful.

It was terrifying, but Claire couldn't help but stop and watch occasionally. Now was one of those times. The redhead had cleaned herself up after maintaining the convoy's trucks, and now she was watching, leaning against the side of the building behind her. Alice hadn't seemed to have noticed her yet, soft grunting noises escaping her as she stabbed both blades forward, then kicked off her back leg, throwing her body into a twist in midair, blades whipping around with the motion. She landed hard, sand exploding up in small clouds around her combat boots. Her chest was heaving, blades clenched tightly in her fists.

"Did you enjoy the show?" Alice asked as she spun her kukris and slid them back into their holsters, finally acknowledging Claire's presence. Her voice was ragged and breathy, sweat shiny on her forehead and her neck. Since they had worked on the cars together, their relationship had shifted to something more casual and joking. The woman was still frustrating, but now Claire was comfortable enough to get over it and occasionally even frustrate Alice right back.

Claire shrugged, "Eh, it was _okay_." She smirked at the flash of irritation that crossed Alice's face, then added, "I'm kidding. That was fucking badass. Especially that twirly thing at the end there."

"Butterfly twist. More flashy than useful. I added that one in there just for you," The woman said. She gave an exaggerated wink, and Claire had to fight back a laugh. Alice continued as she slid her blades back into their sheaths, "Now, I'm gonna go give myself a nice sponge bath, because it's my turn today. Sorry to disappoint you, Claire, but I have to cut off your little adventure into voyeurism here."

"Voyeurism? A little self-centered, don't you think?" Claire shot back, crossing her arms indignantly as Alice moved to walk away, "I wasn't planning on watching you anymore, anyway!"

Alice turned and threw a few words over her shoulder, "Whatever you say!"

With that, she laughed loudly and hurried off before Claire could retort.

XXX

Claire had been given first watch, and for once she was grateful for it. Usually, she hated first watch, because there was something inherently soothing about K-Mart's before-bed rambling to her about her day or a book she'd read, or her humming or the way she always leaned against Claire's shoulder for a little while before she curled up in the passenger seat and dozed off. There was something special about K-Mart. She was like Claire's younger sister, an exception to many of the rules the redhead made herself follow-especially the one about not being touchy-feely. K-Mart could get away with being close to her far more than anyone else could. Tonight, however, Claire just wanted a little bit of alone time.

Her relative good mood from the past few days had died. She had started her morning by waking from a horrible nightmare, one she could only remember bare, horrid details of now. The images still in her mind involved blood and screaming and boiling desert heat. And death. Lots of death. Then, to add on to that, one of the younger girls had fallen ill. Betty had her in the ambulance, and her fever had come down to just above 100 degrees. She was apparently stable and would be fine in a few days, but there was always the chance it was something far worse than they could see, and Claire would have to hold a funeral for yet another member of her convoy. And the girl was so young, too. No more than 11 or 12. It was terrible.

The sun was almost completely set. Only a few slivers of light remained. Pinkish-orange streaks swam through murky purple, and Claire gave it all of ten minutes before darkness fell completely. She was sitting on the sand near the fire, her eyes constantly scanning the perimeter that Carlos had set up a while before. The temperature had dropped significantly, 98 degrees becoming 68, and Claire regretted not grabbing her jacket from the Hummer.

The maintenance she and Alice had done a few days before had instilled her with confidence that the vehicles were all in good shape to keep moving. However, while they were in good shape, the trucks couldn't run without fuel. And the two weeks' worth they had found earlier in the week was good, but not if it was _all _they found. It was only going to last them a week or so longer, and that wasn't much time at all in retrospect.

The thoughts made her stomach ache, and Claire fumbled around in her pocket until she found her box of cigarettes. With deft fingers, she pulled one out and lit it. She pushed the stick past her lips and inhaled, relishing the feeling of the smoke filling her up. She wanted to close her eyes while she savored the feeling, but she knew she couldn't. Slowly, she released the gray cloud through her nostrils, her body protesting at the loss. She sated it by inhaling again. She needed to kick her addiction, because it had almost gotten her killed last time. But she had twelve packs of cigarettes, and she didn't want them to go to waste. Sure, she could have divvied them out among the convoy. But Claire was not much for sharing. She would stop after she ran out this time, she decided. It couldn't be _that_ hard to quit.

Suddenly, arms wrapped around her from behind and interrupted her inner monologue. Claire nearly inhaled her entire cigarette in surprise, and automatically moved to struggle free of the grip. The arms pinned her tighter, however, and lips brushed against her ear, "You seemed cold."

"Alice?" Claire asked, her voice coming out in a surprised hiss. She recognized that gruff, low voice, and the way there seemed to be a smirk lying under any of the words spoken by it.

The lips rested a little too long on her earlobe this time, "You have goosebumps." One arm kept Claire pinned, while the other ran up her arm, rough fingertips trailing from her wrist to the soft crook of her elbow, and up along the muscles in her biceps. Yes, there were goosebumps prickling along Claire's skin, and she had to force her body not to shudder at the strangely gentle touch.

"What the hell?" Claire managed after a few seconds, hating herself for how high her voice was. With a hard breath, she regulated it on her next words, managing to sound firm and not like a horny high school girl, "Get off of me!"

A sigh fell against Claire's ear, but Alice pulled away. Claire expected her to leave then. She _wanted _her to leave then. But instead, Alice came and sat next to her on the ground. It was impossible to read her face in the dim, flickering orange light, "I'm sorry."

"You can't do shit like that, Alice!" Claire told her, voice sharp but not loud enough to disturb the rest of the convoy and alert them to their topic of conversation. The joking relationship that had started forming earlier was gone now, destroyed in an instant, replaced by Claire's hysterical confusion, "You can't just come up and grab people and try to fucking come on to them. I don't know if all of your genetic mutation stuff screwed with your human interaction skills or what, but you just...you don't do that. It's inappropriate on so many levels."

Alice's voice cut through the air around them, and Claire was surprised at the sincerity housed in it, "Claire, I'm _sorry._" She couldn't tell if the redness on Alice's cheeks was from the firelight or a blush, "I thought you were interested. After working on the trucks. And you watching me train."

"Are you crazy?" Claire responded, then berated herself a little at the rudeness of her own words. She softened them in her next sentence, "No, Alice, I'm not interested. I guess I did kind of flirt with you, but it was nothing more than that. I'm sorry."

There was a long pause, in which Alice picked at her fingernails and looked anywhere but at Claire. Awkwardness was thick around them and Claire took another drag of her cigarette to calm her confused thoughts. Finally, Alice looked up at her, "Is it because I'm a woman?"

"No!" Claire said immediately, startled by the question. Well, that was part of it. Claire was straight. She had always been with guys. She had never looked at a girl like that...since sophomore year, and her lab partner in biology was this gorgeous blonde cheerleader named Taylor. But that had just been envy, hadn't it? A desire to be like her? It was a girl crush, not feelings. Claire shook her head both to clear her thoughts and emphasis her point, "Not really that. I just don't have feelings for you."

Alice's embarrassment had faded, because in response she looked at Claire with complete focus and her voice held some sort of confidence, "Then why do you smell so nervous?"

Oh great. So she could _smell _her now? How cute. Claire took another drag of her cigarette. She spoke with the smoke that she exhaled, "I don't know. Oh! Maybe because you decided to _jump_ me?"

"That's not why," Alice said, and she moved closer. Claire wanted to move away, but the woman's blue eyes had frozen her in place. After no more than a few seconds, Alice's lips were on Claire's ear again, "It's not that kind of nervousness." Her tongue darted out, tracing the shell of Claire's ear. A sound escaped Claire before she could stop it, a low groaning sound that vibrated in her throat, "You're nervous because you don't want to push me away right now."

Claire moved to do just that, but Alice caught her chin and held her in place. She pressed her nose into the underside of Claire's jaw, and her lips parted against the convoy leader's skin. Her tongue slid out, brushing so lightly against Claire's pulse point that she could barely feel it. This time, she couldn't fight a shudder. Her vocal chords trembled and strained, and they barely managed to push out a whisper, "I want you to stop."

Either Alice didn't hear her or was ignoring her. Her teeth grazed Claire's skin, and she trailed open-mouthed kisses along the column of the redhead's throat. Claire tried to reach up and push Alice away, but instead her head tilted to the side, giving Alice more room to move her mouth. It was like her body and her mind were at war. Her head told her to stop, her body tried to press itself more into the touches. Absently, she wondered if Alice was controlling her. But the woman didn't seem to be getting weaker, or risking passing out. She seemed perfectly fine. It was all in Claire's own head. Her own body was against her.

Alice's grip on Claire's jaw tightened, and she dragged her tongue along the hollow made by her collarbone. The moan that escaped was something Claire had never heard herself make before, and she blushed in embarrassment. Claire's eyes had closed at some point, and when she opened them again, it was dark. The fire was out, and Claire was slightly thankful that no one would be able to see her current position.

"I'm supposed to be on watch. Stop."

The words sounded so distant that Claire wasn't sure if she had actually managed to speak them. Then Alice's voice vibrated against her neck, causing Claire to shudder again, "I'll sense if anything comes close. You know you want this. I've been able to tell since the way you looked at me the day we first met."

Alice pulled away from Claire's neck, then reached for the cigarette that the redhead still managed to keep caught between her lips. She plucked it free, pressed it to her own lips, and inhaled deeply. Then suddenly, her lips were on Claire's. They were cool and dry, and smoke tumbled from between them and was blown into Claire's own mouth. Claire accepted the smoke greedily and held it as Alice's lips dominated her own. After a moment, Claire breathed the smoke back, and she felt it filter out of Alice's nose and expand around them.

With the smoke gone, Alice kissed her harder. Her lips were firm and bruising, and her tongue slid into Claire's mouth. It carressed her cheeks and the roof of her mouth, and Claire moaned into the kiss as the words _ohmyfuckinggod_ rolled through her head over and over. Alice sighed against her lips, and the sound was far more feminine than any other sound Claire had heard the woman make. Then it registered that this was Alice who was kissing her like this. Alice, a woman, one who had saved her life but infuriated her like no other. A woman who she could be joking with one moment, and wanting to punch in the face the next.

Alice, whose fingers trailed over her tense stomach muscles, whose palm moved to curl around her right breast. When the woman's fingertips rolled over her nipple beneath her shirt and above her bra, Claire's mind simultaneously short circuited and decided to finally force her body to cooperate. She broke the kiss and shoved Alice backwards, heels of her palms against her shoulders.

"Alice. Stop. I don't want this." Finally, her voice sounded like she meant it. There was a pause, then she felt her cigarette being fumbled past her lips again. Clothing rustled, and she realized Alice was standing up.

The blonde's voice sounded disappointed and maybe a little confused, "Right. As you wish." Claire heard the subtle scrape of boots in sand as Alice turned and walked away. After a few steps, the fire flickered back to life, and Claire knew for sure that its original demise was due to Alice. She watched the woman walk away, disappearing after a moment because the range of the firelight faded into blackness.

Claire sighed, not sure what to think. She felt disgusted. But she wasn't disgusted with Alice, even though the woman had continued to touch her even after she'd asked her to stop. She was disgusted with herself, with the way that she had only half-heartedly protested. She was disgusted with her body, and the way her nipples were currently painfully hard against the material of her bra, and the way her panties felt hot and considerably wet as they clung to her. She didn't understand. Her body's primal urges desired Alice, but she didn't know if the rest of her did. Something in her suggested that maybe her feelings were why she always got so annoyed with Alice yet her stomach dropped every time she met the woman's eyes, but another part of her fought that to the death. There was no way...was there? There was nothing but confusion laid out in front of her. No easy answer, now how-to-for-dummies book. Alice was an enigma, and so was how Claire felt about her.

There was no way she was going to be able to focus for the rest of her watch.

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	4. Chapter 4

**Title: **Under a Bad Sun (4/4)

**Fandom: **Resident Evil (movie-verse)

**Pairing: **Alice Abernathy/Claire Redfield

**Rating: **NC-17 for language, sex, and some situations with dub-con

**Summary: **It's hot, and all Claire wants is a cigarette. But when she goes searching for her fix, she finds something she never could have imagined.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Resident Evil, or Claire and Alice.

**Notes: **In which K-Mart is the knower of all things, and smut finally happens. Also bonus points if you catch the foreshadowing to a part of the movie.

XXX

Alice Abernathy was all Claire could think about.

Over the next few days, the convoy leader could never shake the blonde from her mind. The younger woman still went about her duties as a leader, planning routes, keeping up morale, organizing supply raids and watch schedules. No one really seemed to notice the shift except K-Mart, who would occasionally eye her oddly and open her mouth like she planned on speaking, then quickly change her mind and snap it closed.

Every time her eyes met Alice's, she had to look away quickly in order to avoid the churning in her stomach she got as she remembered the feeling of the blonde's mouth on her neck. They hardly spoke, except when Claire told her when she was keeping watch, or when the blonde pointed out places on Claire's routes that she had already checked and found empty of fuel and other supplies. It was really damn awkward, but Claire didn't know how to go about pretending they hadn't made out a few days before. And while it seemed tempting, she wasn't going to be a total bitch and kick the other woman out of the convoy. She was confused and frustrated but she wasn't a terrible person. And she and Alice had been becoming okay friends, until the incident happened. Part of her hoped that eventually, if they didn't talk about it, it would just disappear and things would gradually shift back to normal.

Claire tried to clear her head and focus on the road ahead of her. A cigarette hung from her mouth, and she inhaled deeply in an attempt to lock out the unnecessary thoughts. Alice was riding with Carlos. There was no need to worry when she was two vehicles away.

"Your knuckles are white," K-Mart said. Claire threw a sideways glance over at the girl. The book she had been reading was now closed, one of her thumbs still in it, marking her page. Claire loosened her grip when she realized K-Mart was right, and winced as her sweaty palms protested as if they were glued to the leather. K-Mart frowned at her, "Claire, what's wrong?"

So the girl had finally decided to break her silence. Immediately, Claire plastered on a calm, collected mask. She let no emotion show through. She hated lying to K, but this wasn't something the girl needed to be involved in. She was sixteen now, and she was a mature, intelligent young woman. But Claire still didn't think it was necessary to involve her in this part of her personal life, "Nothing's wrong. I'm just stressed, K. We're running out of places to find fuel." Okay, not a complete lie. That was a portion of her stress.

"You've been acting weird lately. It's Alice, isn't it?" K-Mart asked, and this time Claire knew her mask didn't go up fast enough. Her eyes widened slightly and a hard sigh escaped her. She reached up and took her cigarette between her fingers, allowing herself another long drag. She needed a second to gather herself. She couldn't deny it. Not with K-Mart's prying eyes focused on her, knowing her all too well.

Finally, Claire spoke, "Yes. But it's confusing adult stuff. Nothing you need to be worrying over." Claire glanced over at the teen and gave her a reassuring smile, but the girl simply frowned back. That answer wasn't satisfying her, for sure.

"I hate when you use the 'adult stuff' card. I'm not a baby. I've seen horrible things and I've killed zombies too, Claire. Stop trying to shelter me. You don't need to protect me from things I've already been exposed to. Just tell me what's wrong. It's something I should be worried about if it's affecting your focus and making it more likely you're going to get yourself or the rest of us hurt or even killed," K-Mart said, voice firm, expression hard. She had definitely grown up over the past few months, and that made Claire both worried and proud.

Claire sighed, knowing that there was no point in fighting it anymore, "When did you grow up so much?" K-Mart looked just a little proud at the comment, and Claire bit her lip, trying to figure out how to phrase the truth, "Alice kissed me. And well, a little bit more than that. I mean I guess if you're using cliché terminology then you could say that we got to second base." There it was, out in the open. Simultaneously, Claire was relieved and concerned. It was nice to let the words out, but it was also strange and disconcerting that someone else knew and had perfect opportunity to judge her for it and use it against her. Not that she thought K-Mart would do that. It was just a strange, irritating psychological thing. It also didn't help that she was talking about her sex life to a _teenager_.

"So you and Alice made out and you're confused by it," K-Mart replied, phrasing it as a statement far more than a question. She wasn't taken aback by Claire's confession at all. If anything, it seemed as though she had been expecting it. God, this girl was even more perceptive than Claire gave her credit for. Riding in the same vehicle nearly every day for four years could really allow you to get to know a person, apparently. She didn't even want to ask how K-Mart had figured all of this out.

Nodding slightly, Claire inhaled once again from the cigarette in her mouth. She blew the smoke back out and stared through the cloud it formed around her out into the endless stretch of desert road, "Yes. I am. Because I kept telling her to stop but I can't figure out if I really wanted her to."

For once, K-Mart didn't have an immediate answer. Her lips turned down, her sunglasses sliding down her nose slightly as her eyes narrowed. They often did that when she was thinking. She drummed her fingers on the cover of her book and stared out the windshield for a moment. For a long time, the only noise was the sound of their breathing and the humming of the car as it sped along the old, dry roads. K-Mart's voice was quiet but serious when she talked again, "If you have to keep convincing yourself that you wanted her to stop, then I don't think that, deep down, you did. I think you're afraid of getting close to people. And you're afraid of labeling your sexuality, too. And being afraid is holding you back. But I've seen the way she looks at you, and the way you look at her when she's not paying attention. There's something more there than you're letting yourself see. And since you're fighting it, your mind is telling you to be annoyed with her all the time instead, to try to distract you from how you really feel about her."

"I don't know if it's all that easy, K. It's not all like the Hallmark movies used to pretend it was," Claire reminded her, though K-Mart's words had drilled inside of her. Maybe the girl was right. Part of Claire wanted to discount the teen's opinions because of her age, but it all sounded so logical and she really didn't know what was right and what was wrong anymore.

K-Mart shrugged, "Just try, Claire. Kiss her one more time. Then see how you feel." She didn't wait for Claire to respond again. Already her book was open and she was reading once more. Claire sighed, let her head fall back against the seat slightly, and allowed the blonde's words roll over in her head for a while.

Maybe it was worth a try.

XXX

Nerves had been coiling in Claire's stomach all day. She felt like she was in high school again, about to ask her crush to go with her to a school dance. It was such a childish feeling, an immature one, and Claire hated herself for feeling it. Stupid K-Mart and her logical, terrifying ideas.

The convoy had stopped for the night near a small town much like the one Alice had saved her in. There was a gas station/convenience store about a half mile out, and that's where the convoy had stopped. Inside, they had found water, cigarettes, and various other supplies like flash lights and sunscreen. There had also been enough gas to fill all of the vehicles and put enough in the tanker to last them another three or four days. So far, a successful afternoon. Claire only hoped it wouldn't backfire on her.

It was late, and no one was out except for LJ, who had first watch, and Alice, who was leaning against one of the gas pumps and cleaning her nails with her tactical knife. Claire took a deep breath, steeled up her confidence, and walked over to the other woman. She stood next to her, leaning against the pump as well. Her voice was filled with confidence she didn't actually have, and she was proud of herself, "Hey."

"So you aren't avoiding me at all costs tonight?" Alice responded. She didn't look up at Claire. The redhead grimaced, realizing then that she wasn't the only one confused and hurt by the distance that had come between them. She had forgotten that Alice had emotions just like hers, and that she was very capable of feeling pain, though she had never acted like it.

Claire sighed, "Can we please talk? In the hummer?" Alice stared at her silently for a long moment then finally nodded. Claire headed off in the direction of the vehicle. She turned after a few steps and was pleased to see that Alice was at least following her. When she got to the hummer, Claire opened the back doors and climbed inside. There was an open bed that, when supplies were shifted around, was big enough for two people to occupy at the same time and still be fairly comfortable.

Claire sat down, crossing her legs, and Alice did the same. Silently, Claire sent a thank you to K-Mart for offering to sleep in the ambulance with Betty for the night. This was something she definitely wanted to do in private. Heart-to-heart conversations were not something Claire wanted to be known for. It kind of killed her badass reputation.

"I just...want to apologize, I guess," Claire started, once Alice had settled in and looked at her expectantly. She ran nervous fingers through her hair, "I was just confused. It was so sudden and there were times you really annoyed me or pissed me off . My emotions just all got mixed together and they didn't make any sense. Surely you understand?"

Alice met her eyes, and Claire could just barely see her. The last of the day's light was almost gone, and Claire had to squint to see anything clearly. She couldn't make out the expression on the woman's face, and that concerned her. Alice's voice was also noncommittal, revealing nothing, "I do. I'm sorry for not listening when you told me to stop. I realize now that...that I let my desire control me and not my common sense. I hope you can forgive me and we can move past this."

With that, Alice shifted as though she was getting ready to stand. Claire was startled when she realized the woman thought this was the end of the discussion, all she wanted to talk about. "No!" The word escaped more frantically than Claire had intended, but it stilled Alice's obvious intentions. "No," Claire repeated, "Don't go yet."

"What-" Alice started her question, but Claire cut her off, some hysterical part of her brain telling her that if she didn't do this _nownownow_ then it would never happen. Her hands tangled in Alice's shirt and she pulled her close, pressing her lips to the blonde's in a frenzied kiss. She was going about this all wrong. They needed to talk more first. But she was panicking and she couldn't bring herself to think logically.

Alice let out a startled noise against her mouth, and for a few seconds, there was no response. Then right when Claire was about to pull away, Alice tangled a hand in her hair and kissed her back. The woman's mouth tasted like cigarettes and toothpaste, and her lips were soft but pressed back firmly. It was amazing, and the redhead knew then that she definitely didn't want to stop.

Goddammit K-Mart. The girl's cliché Hallmark movie ideas weren't wrong, after all.

The kiss only broke when Claire's chest felt like it was about to explode from lack of air. Both of them were breathing raggedly, and Claire managed to speak rough, breathy words, "I was afraid. But not of you-of what I felt for you."

"Claire," Alice breathed out, her forehead coming to rest against the convoy leader's.

"What?" Claire replied.

Alice kissed her again, one hand in her hair, the other on her hip. Claire's shirt had ridden up around the bottom of her ribs, and Alice's thumb stroked the skin above the hem of Claire's pants. Goosebumps rose across the younger woman's skin, and she felt her flesh jump with every brush of the rough pad of Alice's thumb. She groaned quietly into the kiss, and Alice took the opportunity to slide her tongue into Claire's mouth. They battled for dominance, the wet muscles sliding along each other.

Before she could really acknowledge what was happening, Claire was lying on her back with Alice on top of her. The woman's weigh was held on her knees and her left forearm. Her right hand trailed over Claire's body, along her stomach, between her breasts, and back down again. Soon, Alice's lips moved to Claire's throat, wet kisses pressing against every inch of the skin. When she reached the place where Claire's neck met her shoulder, Alice bit down lightly. Claire moaned, and the blonde soothed the bite with her cool tongue.

"Can I?" Alice asked, hands fumbling at the base of Claire's shirt. Breathlessly, the redhead consented, lifting herself to make it easier for Alice to slide the material up and off of her body. After a few seconds of struggling with the fabric, it was over Claire's head and thrown off to the side somewhere. Immediately, Alice went to work on the new skin. She dragged her lips and her teeth and her tongue over Claire's chest. She licked her way down Claire's sternum and traced the edges of her bra with her mouth and fingers. She dragged her fingernails down the redhead's stomach, hard enough to leave dully burning trails. Claire moaned again, arching into Alice's touch. _God, and I was just going to _kiss _her,_ Claire mused, somewhere distantly in the back of her thoughts. _Whoops._

Claire's bra went next, and her nipples hardened as the cold air reached them. Alice took the one on the left into her mouth, worshipping it with her lips. Her hand went to the other, thumb rolling over the dusky pink bud until it pebbled against her touch. Alice's teeth closed down on the nipple in her mouth, hard enough for Claire to feel it but not hard enough to hurt her. Simultaneously, she tugged on the opposite nipple with her first finger and her thumb.

_Fuuuuuck_. Claire's thoughts were nothing but expletives, and she couldn't help but wonder why the hell she didn't let Alice do this the other day. It was driving her crazy in the best way possible, and the heat between her legs kept growing and rolling through her like the waves of the ocean on a stormy day. Gasping, Claire wrapped her legs around Alice's waist. She ground her hips forward against the blonde's abdomen, but the layers of clothing rubbing against her did nothing but frustrate her more. This time, her moan was of irritation, and she heard Alice chuckle above her, "Needy, aren't we?"

"Shut up," Claire managed to retort, then released her legs in order to gain access to Alice's shirt. She didn't want to be the only one topless. It was only fair. She whimpered as Alice's thigh settled between her legs, and she rocked against it desperately even as she worked to remove the top half of Alice's clothing. When she finally threw all of it to the side, she pulled Alice downwards into another, sloppy kiss. Her hands rolled against Alice's breasts, fingers caressing her nipples, scratching over them lightly with her fingernails. Alice liked it rough, Claire could tell. And the gesture garnered a surprisingly loud noise from the generally-quiet woman, much to Claire's pleasure.

"I think-" Claire gasped, as Alice's fingers worked quickly to loosen her belt, "I understand now why you annoyed me so much." Alice laughed loudly and kissed the spot beneath Claire's ear.

The rest of their clothes came off quickly after that, and soon both women were completely naked. Their bodies were covered with sweat and scratches and finger-print bruises. Claire was still rocking against Alice's thigh, but this time it was just soft wetness against slick, strong muscle. It was wonderful, but it wasn't enough. "Alice," Claire murmured, and the woman paused in kissing Claire's stomach, "Alice, _please_."

In response, Alice shifted position. She slid farther down Claire's body, until she rested between her legs. Her breath brushed against the redhead's heat, but Alice's strong hands on her hips held them in place. Quietly, Alice said, "You are _so beautiful_." The words caught Claire off guard, filled with such genuine honesty and adoration. It seemed like somethin far too emotional and gentle to come from the superhuman's lips, and Claire was at a loss for words.

Then suddenly, Alice dropped her head. Claire cried out at the first, barest brush of Alice's tongue along her slippery heat. She was throbbing with need, and she tried to lift her hips to increase the pressure. Alice teased her with a few more light touches, holding her in place and forcing her to experience the torture. Then, finally, she ran her tongue fully along the length of Claire's folds, flattening it against her clit.

Any and all doubt Claire might of had left exploded into a million pieces. Yep, she was definitely gay for Alice Abernathy.

Claire tangled her hands in Alice's hair, rolling her hips against the woman's face with frenzied need. Alice was happy to oblige, worshipping her as she devoured her. Her teeth brushed over Claire's clit, biting gently at the bud and drawing a strangled cry from the redhead's throat. She dragged her tongue along every inch of Claire's center, occasionally pressing it inside of Claire to trace along her pulsating inner walls.

God fucking damn. Claire had only been eaten out one other time, and it had been nothing like this. He had been terrible, and she had faked her orgasm because she felt bad for him. But there was no faking now. The sharp cries escaping her were completely real, and the shudders and jerks and desperate twisting of her body were all involuntary. Alice's name tumbled from her lips over and over, like a prayer.

"God..._fuck_...Alice I-I'm so close. Alice, baby, don't stop," Claire managed, though she wasn't sure if all of her words were audible. She couldn't think well enough to comprehend how they sounded. But Alice didn't stop, so she must have gotten the basic idea. One of her hands slid around, and she pressed two fingers inside of Claire without any sort of warning. The redhead had to muffle a loud cry, biting down on her own hand. Her body shuddered violently, and she swore she saw stars when Alice's fingernails dragged down her inner walls.

Claire's whole body was taut, and she knew she was almost done. She was dizzy and panting, her back arching so much it hurt. So when Alice curled her fingers perfectly to hit _that _spot, and her lips sucked firmly at Claire's clit, the redhead came crashing down. She bit her lips to hold back the noise, but moans and whimpers still escaped. Her body trembled, her muscles jerking. She dug her hand so hard into Alice's hair she imagined the woman couldn't breathe. White lights danced in front of her eyes, hot bolts of euphoria rocketing around in every part of her.

After a long moment, she collapsed, panting and shaky. Alice gave one more long drag of her tongue along Claire's folds, causing the redhead's body to jerk as the feeling sent an aftershock rocking through her. The blonde slid up Claire's body, and she kissed her gently but passionately. Claire could taste herself on Alice's swollen lips, and she closed her eyes and savored the flavor.

"I guess I need to return the favor, huh?" Claire murmured, when the kiss broke. She smirked, arched upwards, and flipped them over. Her mouth captured the blonde's again, and her hand trailed down to caress Alice's stomach-and everything below it, too.

Claire never would have placed Alice as a screamer. It was a very nice surprise.

XXX

The next morning, Claire was driving the hummer once again. K-Mart was in the passenger seat, and Alice was in the back, reading one of the girl's books that surprisingly, K-Mart had let her borrow. It was a sign that the young blonde really liked a person when she gave them access to one of her precious paperbacks.

K-Mart was pretending to focus on the road, but there was a constant smirk settled on her lips. Claire knew exactly why she was smirking, because every time they happened to glance over at each other at the same time, K-Mart would have to fight a ridiculous, snarky grin. She knew what had happened last night in the hummer, that Claire had taken her suggestion and gone over and beyond it. Perceptive little shit

Hoping that K-Mart wouldn't give her too much crap for it later, Claire looked into the rearview mirror, smiling slightly when she saw Alice. The book was on her lap, and she had already finished around a fourth of it since that morning. When she felt Claire's eyes on her, the blonde looked up. She smiled at Claire, then winked and drew her tongue seductively over her lips. Claire pursed her lips indignantly at the other woman, winked back, then turned back to the road, chuckling slightly to herself. She heard K-Mart snickering in the seat next to her, and when she shot the teen a glare, she threw up her hands and plastered an innocent expression on her face. Claire simply rolled her eyes.

It was going to be a good day. The temperature had dropped a few degrees, hovering in the low 90's. It was only a small change, but anything was something to be thankful for in the harsh desert climate. They were on their way to Las Vegas, which seemed like a promising place to find fuel. Big cities were not common places for raids. They were too dangerous, but Alice had suggested it, and it made sense the more Claire and the others tossed the idea around. At the very least, they would be able to find supplies they didn't usually have much access to at gas stations-clothing and shoes and bedding. Everyone would be happy about that.

And there was Alice, herself. Every time Claire looked at her, she felt something warm in her chest. She didn't understand why she had been so hesitant, why she hadn't wanted this gorgeous woman. She had been so stupid. And yeah, she felt like she was sixteen again, giddy at the newness of it, smiling just because she was around the other woman. But the cheesy chick-flick feeling was wonderful, and Claire wanted to cling to it as long as it lasted in the chaos of the end of the world.

All because of some goddamn cigarettes.

**Hey guys! This is the end. First, I want to thank Elisa (jovovarter on Tumblr for all her help on this fic). And to everyone who stuck with this story-thank you all so much for reading and reviewing. You're all lovely people and I appreciate you greatly.**


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